Night Watch
by Alawa
Summary: Nikki and the Count share a night watch.  Set soon after 'Diplomatic Immunity'.


**Night-watch**

"He _told me the truth," said Nikki. He marched on in silence for a moment more. "I'm glad." _- 'A Civil Campaign'

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Cousin Vassily had this annoying habit of saying that 'curiosity killed the cat'. Nikki didn't think that any of Vorkosigan House's extended family of felines had met with such a fate; but with ImpSec always on the doorstep, he supposed you could never be sure. Still, he made it to the end of his corridor safe enough and peered around the corner into the landing beyond. Feeling too strung-out to sleep didn't mean he hadn't been intrigued by that sound – something between a growl and a moan – and now he grinned at what he saw. Outside the door to his suite the Count prowled up and down in the semi-darkness crooning, what Vassily would surely have called, 'a very unsuitable song'. Nikki paused for a moment, to savour this delight, before stepping out into his line of view.

"Ah Nikki, good!"

The Count stopped in his tracks but continued to sway on the spot. Nikki bit down hard on his lip as a vid he'd once seen, of a captive bear, flashed through his mind.

"Can you see? Is she asleep?" The Count swung around to give him a better view.

"Er, no sir. 'fraid not."

Lady Helen was wide awake and miserable as she glared down at him over her grandfather's shoulder. Her only greeting was a fretful little mewl.

"Hmm, pity. Poor little thing. Stomach trouble; wouldn't wish it on anyone." He gave her back a sympathetic pat and started once again on his prowl. Nikki fell in at his side.

"The Vicereine does seem to have it easier with my namesake," he mused after a while, his eyes narrow with suspicion. "Let this be a lesson to you, boy. Never let anyone flatter you into believing you're the only person for the job."

Nikki grinned. Despite his growl he didn't think the Count really minded being kept awake. He'd volunteered to take the night-watch after all. And it was obvious to all concerned that his mama – and the frighteningly convalescent Miles – were in dire need of some uninterrupted sleep.

"So, that accounts for me, lad." The Count gave him a sideways glance. "What brings you padding about in the dead of night, or shouldn't I ask?"

Nikki shrugged. "Hunger, sir. Ma Kosti always leaves me something in the fridge." He was struck by a happy thought. "Would you like to join me? There's always loads to spare."

He wondered if he sounded as transparent as he felt. He could well believe, what the Armsmen said, that the Old Man could see right through a plasteel wall. He prepared to squirm but the Count just gave him an amiable smile.

"Why, thank you, Nikki, I think I will." Together they veered off towards the stairs. "Odd, but I seem to have been programmed to forget all this nurturing could be such hard work." His teeth gleamed again in the gloom. "All part of Mother Nature's cunning plan, I suppose."

Two floors down, in the vast and welcoming kitchen, Nikki seated his 'guest' at a counter and went in search of their food. When he returned the Count was crooning again, in harmony with some background hum. Things looked a lot more promising, he thought as Helen's eyes were becoming rather glazed.

"The Vicereine's right. You've definitely got the knack!"

"I've put in a lot of practice with Miles." The Count's voice was very dry. "My son had this habit, you see, of being in pain from the day that he was born; a habit he has failed to grow out of it seems, even at thirty-three."

Nikki's wound up emotions, which he thought he'd got under control, suddenly unwound with a force that threatened to propel him into space. Where had all these protective feelings _come_ from? He knew Miles was suddenly ... well ... _smaller_ than him ... but it was pretty stupid all the same. He clenched his fists. How _dare_ some friggin' Cetagandan loony cause him pain! He hadn't bothered to ask for details – he knew when it was _really_ 'need-to-know' – but there had been open talk about some scary bio-thing in the blood. Something he could identify with all too well ...

His sister's sudden, accusing yowl reminded him too late what Mama had warned – babies could pick up on your mood. He watched, guiltily, as her grandfather resettled her on his shoulder and made an effort to calm down.

"Someone had that hormone-talk with you, yet son?" the Count enquired.

Nikki blushed. "Er ... yes, sir ... sorry ... we had all that at school."

"Hmm, well if you ever want an ... alternative version I'm sure your grandmother would oblige." The Count really didn't seem to mind that Nikki had landed him with a longer watch, but by way of an apology he offered him a Ma Kosti sandwich, cut into the shape of a star; to celebrate their midnight feast, he supposed.

"Hurts, though, doesn't it? Sometimes the wounds of others hurt far more than our own. It's a price we pay for love – or so they say. I've found it to be generally worth it, in the end."

Yeah, it had been a risk – a scary risk – letting himself get closer to his step-da that way. He knew that now; he guessed he'd always known, somewhere deep inside. But Miles was just ... so funny; and kind. And he could always be relied on to take him seriously when it mattered. And, more than anything else, he'd made his mama _happy_. He managed a jerky nod.

But bio-weapons! _Shit!_ Mass-annihilation! Just how drop-dead terrifying was that! Sure, he'd known they existed, any kid who'd ever watched the holovid had to know; but the horrible _reality _of them had just struck home. And of all the eleven-year-olds on the planet, he was pretty sure he was the only one who had anything like this much idea of exactly how close two empires had come to all-out war. And all over some stupid _misunderstanding_ as far as he could tell. Just who was the idiot who'd said that 'ignorance is bliss'? Nikki suspected he might know. But it was dawning on him, too, how crushingly lonely knowing things could be. Gregor, now – he'd understood: _Sometimes our Vor duties come upon us at a too-early age._ And just what weight of truth had _he_ had to bear at _less_ than eleven years old? Nikki felt rather ashamed.

He took in how much of the familiar kitchen was in darkness, where it stretched away beyond their cosy cone of light. How the Count's silver hair might cast him in the role of Father Frost, but it was still a soldier's hand that held his little sister safe. A _killer's _hand. Nikki's mouth went dry. Would the Admiral ever have used these ... bombs ... that melted down flesh into goo on the ground? He felt sick. Yeah, he was all for the _truth_, but there were some things he just didn't want to know. Not in a million years. He swallowed quickly, before he could lose his nerve, and looked the old man in the eye.

"It _would_ have been all-out war, wouldn't it, sir, if the Cetas hadn't realised they'd got it all wrong?"

At that the Count gave him a very measuring look and his face went bleak, then sad. "Yes, Nikki, I'm very much afraid that it would." He winced. "They thought we'd stolen their babies, you see, and when it comes to fighting for one's progeny it tends to be no-holds-barred."

Nikki felt cold. The Occupation had been bad enough. He'd flown over the huge black hole that had once been Vorkosigan Vashnoi; caught a glimpse of the wasteland that now belonged to Miles. Hell, he'd as good as _been _there, with the Resistance, the first time he'd watched _'Captain Vortalon'_ Season Three. He managed a gulp of his milk.

"And we would've had to use _everything_, wouldn't we, sir, all the weapons we have?"

"The Old Earthers had a phrase, I believe: 'mutually assured destruction'. I think it is pretty apt. If it ever gets to the point when the _talking_ stops, you sure as hell best be prepared to give it _all_ you have."

Nikki shivered. For a naked moment the old man's eyes had been hard and cold and frighteningly emptied out; yet somehow he felt he'd been given a gift; something ... terrifying, but priceless all the same. There was silence between them after that; until it stretched out painfully thin. Nikki stared at a crumb on his plate while the Count considered his untouched cup of milk. In the end it was Nikki who raised his chin and cracked an edgy smile.

"So that's why you all take it so _seriously_, then. All those boring speeches in the Council of Counts."

The Count let out a grateful laugh. "Oh, we surely do! That and a few other things like 'diplomacy' and 'trade' and 'modernization'. Oh, and 'legions of spies' – don't let's ever forget about them!" He leaned across the counter then, and Nikki didn't mind at all when he squeezed his hand. "I'm not sure what I can do to banish your bad dreams lad, but this time we _have _pulled back from the brink, at least for a while – thanks in no small part to Miles and your mama. And as for the future ... well," he took a deep breath, "all we can do is serve our hope as best we can."

"You mean Gregor," Nikki said.

"Gregor, indeed! And ... well ..." the Count trailed off with a smile. "Ah, look, her ladyship's decided she'll drop off to sleep at last!" He carefully manoeuvred the baby so she lay secure in the crook of his arm. Nikki found he was both amused and awed. Her face could be, as his mama had said, a 'picture of peace' after all. At the moment he wasn't too sure whether he wanted to laugh or cry; but one thing was definitely clear: unlike those Old Earth ostriches he'd heard about somewhere, he wouldn't be burying his head in the sand.

Shyly he reached out and touched a toe which had escaped from her baby-blanket cocoon. Nurturing was hard work the Count had said and, going by what he'd seen so far, Nikki could well believe it was so. And work needed fuel, as his Uncle Vorthys no doubt would say. Both their plates were empty, he realised, but there was still one fairy cake to go: apple-and-allspice; Ma Kosti had done them proud.

"Split this one with you, sir?" As host, he divided it into two. He patted his stomach dramatically and smiled. "'Nature abhors a vacuum'." It was one of the cook's more notorious turns of phrase; though she always claimed Lord Mark was the one to blame.

The Count grunted. "It's obvious Ma Kosti's never been into space." But Nikki was happy to see his eyes were full of ... something, as he helped himself to his share.

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Written for the ficathon on the LJ bujoldfic community


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